


Walk, Don't Run.

by Ashhlys



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Bill Denbrough, Adult Stanley Uris, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bill Denbrough Loves Stanley Uris, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing in the Rain, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, Romance, Short Story, Stanley Uris Loves Bill Denbrough, Teen Romance, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashhlys/pseuds/Ashhlys
Summary: Two best friends who loved one another deeply gets separated when the time for university comes and gets back together 10 years later, with the same feelings that burned their hearts out.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Walk, Don't Run.

**Author's Note:**

> Reading the second part is completely optional. It was supposed to end bad but me being a sucker for good endings since the world is in fucking chaos right now added the time lapse.  
> Enjoy!

They had always been good friends, Bill and Stan. They always did everything together since the teens both felt the same overwhelming loneliness from time to time. Stan was the only child but Bill had a little brother. And yet the boy wanted, no, _needed_ his best friend’s company more than the small boy’s. They understood one another just perfectly; they _knew_ each other. It was truly a hard-to-find blessing for the two.

Bill helped the curly-haired boy through his never-ending arguments of religion with his father while Stan helped the ginger boy through the speech therapy he went for his stutter. They had frequent sleepovers and long, deep conversations about anything and everything that occupied their minds.

But not everything always stayed the same. That little utopia they had created among them was no longer there the moment the boys finished high school.

“What do you want to be?” Was the very question that drew the two boys apart while starting to bring them the closest they had ever been one last time.

* * *

The boy’s feet softly hit the ground with every step he took, crunching the leaves and snapping twigs underneath his shoes, ruining his silently-intended footsteps. He had a lot in his mind, yet so little time to catch up with them.

He lived in a huge world with billions of people inhabiting it with different characteristics and goals. They all had things they wanted. And some did achieve everything they’d ever wanted, some failing along the way, some not even trying a tad.

And what did Stan do? He really didn’t know besides one thing:  
He could feel and see the world go by but he couldn’t take part in it because he couldn’t catch up. It was spinning too fast, people passed him by without slowing down enough to notice him struggle.

_He felt completely alone._

It had been so long since the boy last heard himself think raw; that it felt almost alien to Stan. Ever since he met Bill, he had never been alone; not getting a chance to re-experience the suffocating swirl of thoughts within him. Because was always either with the boy or thinking about him. But now… He didn’t know what but something happened and they drifted apart.

_But it was all fine. Being alone was much easier._

Now, he didn’t need to think twice before he spoke, he didn’t need to worry whether something he would say could hurt the person he was talking to. He didn’t need to do anything to please them. It was just him and him only.

He furrowed his eyebrows with the humidity he smelled in the air, finally looking around himself and actually seeing his surroundings. He felt confused until he realised where he was. He had come to the quarry. He must’ve walked as he thought and his muscle memory must’ve taken him here.

The faintest of the smiles appeared on his lips, making the teen look up at the blue-orange evening sky, taking a deep breath, smelling the dirt and wetness of the quarry water. He had been here for quite a few times yet it still managed to amaze Stan every time he came here.

He walked towards the metal fencing that separated the dirt and the asphalt part of the road, jumped over it and continued to walk until he reached the very edge, holding his arms spread open like he was trying to hug the entire world.

_And maybe he was._

He slowly sat down, carefully placed his empty backpack right beside him and looked down at the water, watching it flow by, listening to the birds chirping as they flit from tree to another. That made his small smile widen as he watched the blue, black, brown birds chirp happily at one another, fly around the sky, chase each other, go back and sit on one of the branches of the trees whenever they desired. They were such carefree creatures if you asked the teen.

He even sometimes thought about being a bird. What he would do if he could turn into one. Finally being completely free. Being able to hold _your own_ strings in _your_ hands. It surely must feel nice. Not having any responsibility that is.

But being a human had its advantages as well. Even though it was something the teen didn’t quite fully enjoy, it still _was_ something. _He was_ _alive_.

Being able to think and create these thoughts, feeling the cold and soft dirt underneath his fingertips, breathing in and out, blinking his eyes, being able to live everything he had experienced so far… He didn’t really think he could give them up. Even though some were rather bitter memories, living was the longest memory he would ever have and it was _his_. He wouldn’t change it for the world.

He reached for his bag and rummaged around the various pockets, and took out the neatly wrapped binoculars and his notebook he used to mark down every bird he had seen.

He slowly untied the black cloth that was wrapped around the binoculars; he held it over his eyes and tried to identify the birds. They were mostly belonged to the same repetitive species, very common in this area; Stan saw them nearly every day.

Sighing deeply, the boy lowered the binoculars and turned to his side to put them back into his bag, and flinching with the unexpected face he saw standing before his eyes. He let out a terrified yelp, furrowing his eyebrows at the laughing teen when he finally realised who that was.

“What is your problem?”

The ginger boy smiled down at his ex-friend that was still muttering curses at himself as he put everything back into his bag, his smile widening when they finally made eye-contact again. It was a surprised one to say the least. He surely had grown so much since the last time they had hung out for real.

His jawline was more define then it was when he was younger and his gaze was definitely sharper. He had let his hair grow down nearly to his shoulders and Bill would be lying if he said he hated that. His voice had gotten remarkably deeper. He was different but the moment Bill looked into his eyes, he saw the same boy from before: His ex-best friend of eight years.

“What?” Bill let out a short chuckle, letting himself drop down and sit beside Stan, shaking his head as he did.

“It’s nothing.” Stan cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It surely didn’t seem like nothing to me.”

“It’s really nothing… Just…” He gave other the teen a smile, one hand raised up to his cheek and caressed it gently with the back of his fingers before touching the stray hair strands over his ear, brushed them behind it with a fond look that filled his eyes.

“It’s just… _You’re_ _different_.”

“How so?”

“You’ve grown.”

Stan wanted to give the boy a sarcastic answer, he wanted to brush him off or even curse at him for scaring him once again. But the pounding of his heart didn’t let him say anything, and his eyes seemed to refuse focusing on anything but the teen before him.

He hummed, turned away from Bill and looked up at the sky that now had grey clouds littering it, worry of getting soaked filled him instantly. But if he left now, he wouldn’t be able to talk with Bill like this again; he _knew_.

Because whenever the two boys saw one another, they would have an awkward, rushed small talk and promise to call or come by to hang out a little. But in the end, they never did. So the boy knew he needed to make the most of this very rare alone-time he had with Bill.

The boy slowly lied down onto his back and placed a hand over his stomach, the other remaining on the ground, right beside his side. Bill looked down at him with a curious but amused look until Stan gave him a small smile and gestured for the boy to lie down as well, turning his head to his direction when he did, locking eyes together.

They looked at one another for as long as they could, not talking, not even averting their gazes; just staring. It felt nice, natural, and homey. They could feel the gap they had felt fill with the thought and the soothing presence of one another, making them feel whole again. But Bill needed to know why their magic was no longer tying them together, making them inseparable _._

_Was it his fault?_

“Why did we become like this, Stan?” That was a question the teen asked himself every time he thought about Bill, unfortunately failed at finding an answer to this day.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you hate me?”

Stan finally looked up at the boy that was now lying on his side, propping himself up with his elbow, looking down at himself with a look he couldn’t quite name. He raised one of his eyebrows, tying his hands together beneath his head to make himself a semi-comfortable pillow.

“Playing twenty one questions now, are we?”

“Don’t avoid the question, Stan.” The teen sighed, shaking his head as he closed his eyes.

“No, Bill.” He smiled but still kept his eyes closed, humming contently at the soft breeze he felt against his face.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

There was a long pause. Stan furrowed his eyebrows, slowly opened his eyes to ask what was wrong, widening them with how close Bill had gotten to his face while they were waiting in silence. The teen was looking at him with a warm smile that was really reaching his eyes, making Stan want to smile as well.

“Do you like me?”

Stan hummed again, smiling when he saw Bill get even closer. Now their noses were bumping and they could feel one another’s breaths against their faces. Stan could hear his heartbeat inside his ears now, expecting Bill to make a move.

But that move never came. That very little distance between the two boys increased as Bill pulled away and lied back down to his back, looking up at the sky. Stan was about to comment about how it was going to rain; a pathetic excuse he planned on using to save himself from being lead on any longer, but his ex-best friend spoke up again.

“What do you want to be?”

Stan wasn’t expecting to be asked that question by Bill, but he should’ve. They had graduated from high school that day, of course, he would ask it. But that question was just another one he didn’t know the answer himself.

“I don’t know.”

“You seriously can’t answer all of my questions with ‘I don’t know’, Stanley.”

The boy smirked and looked at the other teen that was already staring. They held one another’s gazes for a bit before Bill turned his head and looked back up at the sky, giving Stan the time and opportunity to stare at the ginger as much as he wanted.

Bill’s lips were as plump as he had remembered. There had been quite a few times when the boy wished he could get to feel them against his own. But that time of course, was not yet to come. His hair had changed its colour to a lighter red now; Stanley could even see a few blond strands. Or that might’ve been the sunlight reflecting off of them, creating a brilliant painting of beauty for Stan to enjoy.

He had grown taller now; still he was as skinny as before. But he had slight muscles on his biceps. That was a rather delightful sight to see for Stan. His legs were long and his hands were as slender as when he was fourteen. One hand he couldn’t see but the other stood so close to his own, almost mocking him, or perhaps _daring_ him to be held by Stan.

He wanted to do just that. To touch, to feel, to hold the boy’s hand. And if he was lucky enough, maybe even more.

But he was too scared to actually do something about what he desired. So, he turned away as well and closed his eyes again, opening one of them when Bill decided to break the silence once more.

“I know what I want to be.” Stan turned back to the boy, looking at him with raised brows, making Bill chuckle.

“What? Can’t believe I actually have goals?”

Stan panicked, suddenly straightening his relaxed posture to clear what was misunderstood but narrowed his eyes when the boy started to laugh again, looking up at Stan with an amused, smug smirk afterwards.

“I’m just joking, Stan. It’s no big deal.”

“Asshole.”

“You love me.”

Something snapped inside Stan. _Did he actually know?_ He narrowed his eyes again, this time with more panic, only realising Bill was only teasing himself, _again_.

“Shut up.”

Bill was about to say something but the thunder cut him off, making both boys flinch at the sound. They looked at one another, silently agreeing on heading home before they got caught by a downpour.

The boy didn’t actually mind standing or walking under the rain but he wasn’t sure about Stan. But it seemed like it didn’t bother the other teen as well since a warm smile spread across his lips the moment the rain started. He watched Stan tilt his head to look up at the sky to let the raindrops drop down to his face, even catching some with his tongue.

“How does it taste?” Bill teased; Stan shook his head before brushing his slightly damp hair off of his right cheek.

“Like rain.”

They took their time heading back to their homes, walking close enough that their pinkies touched with every step the teens took, but neither of them made a move. They were too scared of losing this last thread of friendship they had managed to spark between them and were afraid of being rejected, completely oblivious that both felt the same way about one another.

And Bill knew that this wasn’t the time he should be confessing. It was too inconvenient. He couldn’t do that to Stan.

“Want to dance?”

Stan cocked one of his eyebrows at his friend, tilting his head to the side. Bill watched the way his wet curls fell down onto his shoulder graciously before he smiled up at the teen’s face, holding his hand out.

“A-Alright I guess..?”

They started to dance clumsily and shyly at first, trying too hard not to embarrass themselves in front of one another. But that awkward shyness faded away as they continued to dance, smiling widely and even chuckling with glee, jumping into the puddles of rain and twirling each other around.

They were actually having fun after a long time. The stress of school was too much for them and this felt like the best therapy they could’ve ever received.

Bill stopped, naturally making Stan stop as well, making him look down at the teen with questioning eyes. The boy admired the way they flashed greenish brown with the rain, lacing their fingers together tightly, reached and held his other hand as well.

“You make me happy, Uris.” Stan smiled, nudging the boy’s nose with his without realising how they had been leaning closer to one another.

“And you make me smile, Denbrough.”

Bill smiled back, looking down at Stan’s lips for a moment before returning to look into the boy’s eyes. But Stan didn’t want that. Stan wanted to kiss Bill. And sometimes, he thought the boy did as well. He needed to find out the truth.

So, he tilted his head to slot their lips together but that was the last move Stan had to make. Because Bill had already let go of one of the teen’s hands and grabbed him by his neck, pulling him in and closing the gap between their lips at last.

Stan gasped into his friend’s mouth as they finally kissed, tasting Bill and the rain on the teen’s pink lips he had admired silently for so long. Though it wasn’t as deep as he would’ve wanted it to, Stan was happy anyway.

And for the first time in years, he kept savouring the moment without thinking too much of it and kept on kissing the boy he loved for as long as he could.

But their lungs could only take too much before they needed to breathe air in. They pulled away at the same time, smiling as they looked at one another, completely soaked from the rain, but they didn’t feel the cold or the uncomfortable wetness surrounded them because the heat coming from one another kept them warm enough. They didn’t care.

Still, every pretty thing had an ending.

“I’m moving away.” Stan processed the words later than he would’ve expected, clearly wanting to deny the harsh truth.

“I want to be a writer and I don’t want to stay in here. I’m moving to Los Angeles, Stan.”

The boy didn’t say anything. What could he even say? Did he even have the rights to say anything at all? No, he really didn’t think so. Bill felt guilt wash over him with the torn apart expression his words had brought upon the teen’s beautiful face.

He pecked Stan’s lips one last time before caressing his cheek, watching the way the teen leaned into his touch with a sad smile as tears began to pick at his eyes. He shook his head, grabbed Bill’s hand and kissed the palm of it, looking right into the teen’s teary eyes.

“I love you.” Bill gulped, let go of Stan’s face before taking a step back.

“I’m sorry.”

Stan felt his heart break at the sight of his ex-best friend, his newly found friend and unofficial lover walk away. The things his heart cried wasn’t easy for the teen to voice out loud. It was yearning, pleading for Bill to turn around and return running back at him, for him to not run away. For him to say what he really wanted to say. An apology wasn’t what Stan was expecting.

The only thing Bill had cherished was running at that moment, in a quest to join the other people in their rush, leaving Stan all alone. His hand subconsciously reached for Bill, for him to at least walk instead of running; for him to let Stan catch up with him. He wanted to run off too, but the weight he felt on himself didn’t let him.

So there he was, standing underneath the grey skies of heartbreak and love. It wasn’t the best combination of emotions he would ever want to feel at the same time but feeling them under the rain soothed the pain ever so slightly, helped him numb everything he felt.

And that day, the teen decided he would always love the rain. Even if it reminded him of a ginger that broke his heart underneath.

* * *

**_(Ten Years Later)_ **

Stan Uris had always loved the rain.

It covered anything and everything he didn’t want to witness, made people run off to their business much more quicker than they would normally do, leaving the man more time to think by himself. It isolated the environment, fed the trees and every other plant that required water to survive. It was the life source of every animal from the smallest to the biggest.

It filled the man’s chest with a feeling of somehow being complete and incomplete at the same time. It was confusing. But he wanted to become the rain sometimes and sometimes even feed it. To feed it with his sorrow and loneliness to make it never stop. To make it last until the very end of his life, until he was drained of all of his emotions.

It felt consuming, yet comforting. It was the definition of home for Stanley. It was vulnerability. It was love. It was rain.

And he wanted Bill to feed the rain as well. But with his positivity; in contrast with the source of Stan’s negative emotions. With his happiness, his glee and his needs. Because he was still thirsty for the boy’s love. And if he actually did what Stan wanted, every time it rained, he would be drenched in Bill’s love.

_But he knew that would never happen._

He should’ve forgotten about him long time ago. And he kind of did forget him. He didn’t remember how his face looked or how his voice sounded like but that very name was carved into his mind as well as his heart.

He looked up; the hood of his jacket rode up in the process and revealed something that struck the man like a lightning, making him feel the sparks of something all around his every inch of being.

Stan started to run after he had read everything that was written down on the billboard, clearly not wanting to waste any more time. He was already a tad late to the event since it had begun two hours ago; and yet, he still had hope within.

His every hurried step made the water that had been flowing over the pavement splash and wet the clean fabric of his jeans. But the man didn’t care, much to his surprise. He had a purpose on his mind and the danger of having to wash muddy water stains from his clothes wouldn’t stop him from achieving it.

The mall wasn’t too far and Stan had a good stamina to spare, so, he continued to run and run until he could see the massive building from afar. He knew that he should’ve taken a cab instead of running like a mad man but he had already started his marathon anyway; he might as well go all the way.

And there it was: An eye-catching red banner announcing the author signature day they were hosting in third floor. He started to climb the stairs up to that floor, rushing to get there and stopped, only then realising he didn’t own any of the books the man had written. Would that be a problem?

But Stan’s purpose of going there wasn’t to get his book signed by him. He just needed to talk to Bill. And when he was woken up from his chain of thought by someone fake-coughing to get him to move along, making him realise it was too late to doubt everything he had decided in a split second.

_The man was_ _already standing in the line_.

So, he stopped worrying too much surprisingly easily and turned to face the front of the line and started to wait for his turn. But everything felt like they were in slow motion. Has it even been a second? He really couldn’t tell.

And even though patience was something Stan had naturally possessed, at that very moment, it felt like seconds were turning into minutes, minutes turning into hours. The line almost wasn’t moving, making the man more irritated than ever before. But the people before him lessened and lessened with time, until three people remained before him. And with each people walked away from between the man and his… _The novelist_ , his heart ached. He almost considered walking away. But he wasn’t there to get scared and leave. He was there to make the writer remember himself and to confront him.

Finally with that last person abandoned the line, the two men’s eyes met for the first time, making the writer pause for a split moment before politely requesting the book the man wanted signed. Stan shook his head and held out his palm, meeting the man’s questioning gaze.

“For Stanley Uris.”

Bill’s eyes widened with shock at the familiar name and everything came crashing down upon him. He started to remember his childhood best friend, the sleepovers they had, the secrets they shared, the glances they stole from one another and lastly… Their absurd parting of them accompanied by their one and only kiss.

He remembered the way he left the blond boy all alone, without a response to his heartfelt words, suddenly blaming himself for everything he had ever done. He wanted to reach up to him now, to pull the man down, to kiss him without a worry about the hundreds of people watching his every action like a hawk. Suddenly none of that mattered to him.

“Are you going to do it or not?” That deep, new, and yet somehow familiar voice spoke up again, waking the author from his trance, looking into those golden eyes he had forgotten he longed for years.

“Is it possible that we’ve met before?” He asked as he carefully reached for the hand that was offered to him to litter with his sign. That silent request sounded like a sin to Bill; one he would gladly commit without a second thought.

And the very moment his fingertips touched the back of the soaked man’s hand, familiar sparks rushed inside both men, making them gasp silently at the same time. Their gazes found one another’s eyes once again, sharing a look of pure longing, love and desperation.

_They needed each other to live; how could they even forget that? How could they forget how alive they felt when they were together?_

“We did.” Stanley confirmed, looking down at his palm that now carried Bill’s familiar signature, a subtle smile making the tips of his lips twitch upwards before looking back up at the writer’s still wide eyes.

“In Derry, a long time ago.”

“Are you finished already? There’s still a line here!”

Both men flinched by the angry voices shouting at them to get over it already, washing away the smallest bit of hope and joy they had brought to each other in a matter of seconds.

Bill looked up at the blond man that carried the saddest smile that broke his heart, attempting to turn away from himself. But _no_ , Bill _wasn’t_ going to let this happen again. He had walked away from Stan one time; he didn’t want them to separate ever again.

So, just as that pale, slender hand was about to slip away from his grasp, he tightened his fingers around it and he pleaded for him to stop, to not leave him like this; finally voicing the teenager Stan and everything the boy couldn’t find the strength to stop teenager Bill from walking away all those years ago.

Stan was stunned with a huge feeling of conflict eating him up. The man wanted to laugh at his face, he wanted to accuse him for everything he had been through until that very day but he was too sick of playing dumb. He was sick of running away from his feelings and his deep-buried thoughts. But he needed to know the reason behind Bill’s actions. He didn’t want to live with unanswered questions anymore.

“Why bother _now_?”

Bill stood up, and grasped the man’s shoulders, looking up into his eyes with a pleading look, assuring Stan he really wanted him there.

“Can you wait for me at the café by the entry?” Stan broke free from the author’s gentle grasp, patting his hands before taking a step away from his stand.

“You’ll see if you decide to _actually_ come.”

“Please-”

But without giving the author the chance to finish his sentence, Stan walked away from the line and Bill, on his way downstairs without looking back at the writer.

They both knew he would wait for him any time if Bill asked him to. They both knew that, so why would he assure him? He didn’t need to. Or maybe he just wanted his ex-friend to experience the same helplessness he had felt before. But this time, they knew they would see one another again, they would cross paths one last time.

Once the man was out of the suffocating building, he turned his head upwards to stare at the cloudy sky as much as he could through narrow eyes, the raindrops soaking his already-damp face and hair again; the man finally felt light and content. His heart raced with the familiarity of the situation but this time no heartbreak was awaiting him. It was completely sunny for them both; their days together from then on.

And the fresh smell of coffee, the soothing taste of it and the familiar fingers slotted between his was the assurance of it. Their eyes never left one another as they spoke, trying to fit ten years into a few hours. And they enjoyed every second of it without any lies or tricks.

It was just them, their true feelings, the grounding smell of coffee and the soothing sound of the rain that brought them together after separating them for so long.

They took the first walk of their reunited lives, with a kiss being shared as a seal of it. Now, they would walk in the rain together. Now, they would walk _together_ , not run _away_ from each other.

Stanley Uris had always loved the rain. And now he knew why.

-The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may have noticed, but if you've not, this was inspired by the song "Carnival of Rust" by Poets of the Fall. I really recommend checking them out.


End file.
